i can’t eat.
what’s the point?
i can’t sit
and not cry
and the people, –
they mill around
in pointless desperation
of what they think is life
and i,
i wait,
and i wilt,
with each passing second
and each stale wind
in what might have once been
hope
or prayer,
but now
is just the vague
ticking,,
of
what they say is time-
but i know,
is the ever fading sound
of my listless heart.
i think im just too much.
and not enough.
and maybe i kill people with my words-
cause im fighting against
their implications.
always.
so they bend
or they bow
or they bury me
till i cant scream
anymore.
not at them
or at all.
and im left alone
once again.
and maybe its all me.
all the faults,
all the truths,
all the wrongs
all the blame…
maybe i never deserved anything good
cause i never was anything good
to begin with..
or maybe i was too busy screaming
to realize
that i should just curl into a ball
and die.
that from the very beginning
i
wasnt worth
the fight.
no fight.
ever.
and so here i am,
and im always fighting.
and my flailing fists
and poisonous mouth
send away any prayer
of being heard
or wanted
or anything at all.
or maybe
im just nothing
and it never mattered anyway.
so i can keep hitting
and yelling
or accept my position
and understand finally
that i
am not worth
any of it.
so just stop
already.
just
shut up.
just stop.
just, stop!
just,
Just,,
in the nighttime she hears
of red requests
stirred up in dreams
from whence she rests..
in twisted tongues
and barely breaths
beneath said sounds
of dying deaths,
all clear in night
as dead of day
she spreads her legs
and walks away.
im so scared
and so sad
and so sure
that it’s all just gone
and it’s making me
a kind of nauseous
i didn’t know
i could get
like there’s no point
and no value
to anything
anymore
and what does it matter
if im here
or not
and what does it matter
if I ever
was
cause in all this
all i get
is that im worthless
and that’s all.
im tired.
so tired.
my eyes are watery,
always now..
and blue beneath
or maybe it’s gray,
i can’t see really.
cause nothing works anymore.
least of all,
the ability to see
colour.
and if it were just
my dreams that were true
and you were now only
in thought,
and all that i knew
was all that i dreamed
cause dreams were just wishes
that caught-
in farewell to arms
in love that cant live
in petrified vestige of youth
lay i in your arms
in fiery death,
a true love lay murdered
by truth.
its unfair,
to expect regret
from a stilted child
with no memory
where touch
meant nothing
and love
meant everything.
